Lucy was surprised to hear that any party could happen on a week night, but the parents of the house in question were the rich absentee type. But send me word. We’ll have some buttered toast. All the world before you, all the ologies. The house was redolent with the smells of cinnamon baking and the stuffed turkey and marinated pork roast. By the time she arrived at the Beck’s doorstep, the morning was risen. CHAPTER THE THIRD THE MORNING OF THE CRISIS Part 1 Two days after came the day of the Crisis, the day of the Fadden Dance. She let him have it all, as it was, after all, for the last time. Because here was the haven for which she had been blindly groping: the positive abolition of all her father's rights in her—the right to drag her back. "I did not know … that it was … like that!" She stepped back; but as his hands fell she caught and held them tightly.
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